Zombieland
by LunarLacrimosa
Summary: Zombieland drabbles with our favorite foursome! Some chapters will be cannon (Wich/Col), others will have slashy goodness (Col/Tal), and others still will just be random. Some will also be set in an AU, most likely where the zombie apocalypse never happened but they still meet, or it did happen but they find out Buck's alive. (whatever tickles my fancy) If you have any ideas review
1. Twinkies

**AN:** First Zombieland fic. Might have this turn into Z-land drabbles, completely obsessed with it right now. Hinted Tall/Col, past Col/Wichita.

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No one was too surprised when the romance between Columbus and Wichita fizzled out like a sparkler on the fourth of July, considering that Columbus didn't really _do_ romance, brushing hair over an ear was about as much as he could muster, and while she wasn't lying when she said she could totally tap someone with the guts of a guppy, sex and actually being with someone were vastly different. Besides, it wasn't too hard to guess that when Wichita grabbed Columbus' hand and moved it to one of her breasts he flushed and stuttered; telling her it was very nice. The poor guy was such a virgin, which sucked for him at the end of the world, but he did have a nice blush going, which just spurred Wichita and Little Rock into embarrassing him.

Tallahassee, however, never lost his love for Twinkies. Little Rock finding one in Pacific Playland had been a heaven sent blessing, but if anything it just made his craving worse. And really only Columbus was affected by this, because the girls were just content to sit in the car while Tallahassee ripped apart a store to look for his beloved snack food, but Columbus always felt the need to go in and make sure the Floridian had back up, no matter that it was beyond obvious he could care for himself.

That was where they were now, Tallahassee's quest for the yellow snack food never ending. It was a small store, probably what would have been referred to as a Mom and Pop place, but no one got the reference when Tallahassee used it. This time Wichita and Little Rock had decided to pop in the small store with the guys, waiting beside Columbus while Tallahassee went through his ritual of drawing any of the infected's attention to him through a loud noise and then killing them all.

After that they agreed to split up, Columbus muttering something about buddy systems, one of his rules that the ex-college student was always so adamant about, so Little Rock went with Columbus while Wichita followed Tallahassee.

It only took Tallahassee a minute to figure out where the hostess products should be, practically smelling them out, and Wichita had to hold back a laugh when she pictured him as a dog. Tallahassee certainly acted like one sometimes, bouts of anger that ended in destruction, of both zombies and consumer goods, but loyal and caring to a fault, even if he had been the one to make up the no name rule. About a month ago Little Rock had talked him out of it, seeing as Columbus knew Wichita's and Little Rock's real name, but neither knew his or Tallahassee's. It was with some amusement that Columbus and Tallahassee found out that they had the same first name, albeit with different spelling, and the decision to stick to their new names was unanimous with that new tidbit of info.

Of course there were no Twinkies in sight, Tallahassee shoving boxes aside in his search and cursing up a storm. Wichita was used to the tirade by now, calmly picking up a box of Snoballs because she knew Columbus liked them, checking the date on it and then trying to figure out what month it was mentally before putting the box back down. Columbus was, unsurprisingly, the only one who bothered to keep some sort of system to keep track of the days and months, using his old college planner to do so, the beginning of it filled up with homework and marked days of tests, and the rest menial things like how much canned food they had, or if they needed more Band-Aids.

"The date on this box happened a while ago," Wichita said, "Are you sure there's still any that you can find that haven't passed the expiration date? Twinkies do have an expiration date, after all."

"I know they expire, damn it!" Tallahassee practically snarled, shoving the entire shelf over.

Wichita watched him vent with a sigh, noticing Little Rock and Columbus starting to make their way over, Columbus holding a pack of sugar free gum, some type of box she couldn't quite make out, and a box of lollipops, sucking on one of his hoodie strings, Little Rock reaching in the box and grabbing at one of the suckers, unwrapping it and starting to suck on it. Her sister made a face, and Wichita could just barely hear what she said over Tallahassee's rage a few feet away from her.

"_I don't like this flavor, get me another one?_"

"_Well, we shouldn't waste it…_" Columbus trailed off, hoodie string dropping from his mouth as he took the lollipop from Little Rock and popped it in his own, before getting her another one.

Sharing germs when you were positive the other didn't have any kind of virus, especially the z-virus, didn't bother any of them, even the high strung ex-college student who had been afraid of the rags they wiped down tables with. There were greater things to worry about at the end of the world, and with fewer humans it meant little chances for a disease to pop up and spread. Though there had been the one week where Tallahassee had managed to pick up a cold, Columbus catching it soon after. Little Rock and Wichita had been spared, thankfully.

But Columbus' statement made her think of a mom, and that seemed to fit him well. While Wichita made sure to focus on Little Rock's needs, even more than her own, Columbus tended to focus on everyone's as a whole. He worried for them all when there was any zombies, and memorized the ammo needed for their weapons and grabbed any he found. There had even been the one night where Tallahassee and Wichita had gotten drunk together, just drunk enough to think it a good idea to let Little Rock drink since the girl was twelve and it was the apocalypse anyway, leading Little Rock to think it was a wonderful idea to go for a midnight swim, but Columbus had none of that. He dragged the girl back in the house they had cleared out, locking her in the closet seeing as Wichita and Tallahassee were already out, then stayed up all night to keep watch, only to yell at Wichita and Tallahassee the next morning for being that stupid. It was extremely rare when Columbus got annoyed enough to raise his voice, even rarer for him to actually yell, and even rarer still for him to face off against Tallahassee without flinching or shaking like a teacup Chihuahua.

And it was only natural that Tallahassee was the father, then, wasn't it? The man had practically taken Little Rock under his wing, after all. Taught her how to shoot, taught her how to fish and hunt, even how to skin an animal and how to start a fire. While Wichita did sometimes butt heads with the stubborn Floridian even she loved and looked up to him, nearly impossible not to when he was a one man army bent on destroying any and all zombies he came within ten feet of. Like Columbus had said, the man grew on you. He put up a big front, but was just like any of them on the inside. Wichita had nearly gotten herself bit while not following Columbus' double tap rule, and once Tallahassee had been done with the zombie there hadn't been much left to say it had been a zombie at all.

Columbus was like the mom and Tallahassee was like the dad in their odd little group, the thought was laughable at best but it did inspire Wichita. Tallahassee did so love Twinkies, after all… And Columbus definitely looked like he could suck on something bigger than a lollipop. Wichita was no stranger to certain terminology, and Columbus fit the bill for a 'twink' perfectly appearance wise. Then he had that god awful yellow hoodie, which Wichita thought was hideous but was pretty close to a Twinkie color. It wasn't hard for her to admit she'd been a bit of a closet pervert back before the z-virus, and now she was stuck with her little sister and two men. Little Rock and anything sexual was just… ewe, no. That left poor Columbus, and now Tallahassee, to her musings, then.

Wichita smirked, "You always have a certain Twinkie with you if you need a last resort, Tally."

Tallahassee stopped in the middle of throwing something, blue eyes darting to Wichita and glaring at her. He hated that nickname, knew Wichita knew that, and he didn't much like what the girl was insinuating as she smirked at him before glancing over at Columbus. He glanced over too, Little Rock and Columbus coming to a stop at the end of the aisle they were standing in, both sucking on their lollipops, before upping his level of glare at her, indicating that he probably knew exactly what she was saying.

"Tallahassee, look what I found!" Columbus said, shifting the objects in his arm and grabbing the box Wichita hadn't been able to, revealing it to be a lone box of Twinkies. "They have, like, a week until they expire, too, probably some of the last ones."

Wichita had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, but Tallahassee seemed to either not care that the girl had referred to Columbus as a Twinkie earlier, or just forget back of his happiness, rushing forward and grabbing the box from the ex-college student.

"This is why I keep you around, eh, Spitfuck?" Tallahassee laughed, slapping the younger man on the back a bit too hard for his liking. He shot Wichita another look, daring her to say anything, and she just grinned.


	2. Fun at the Beach

**AN: **Columbus/Wichita in this. (Thanks to _Seaspy_ for reviewing! I agree, ZL does need a lot more fanfiction!)

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They were at the beach, somewhere in Florida. The group had been heading to Tallahassee, upon Tallahassee's insistence of course, when Little Rock asked if they could go to the beach. The twelve year old had never been to one before, so Wichita was immediately all for it.

Despite the wide open spaces, if Wichita was for it, Columbus was, too. The ex-college student was even more head over heels for the cunning girl then before seeing as after Pacific Playland they had been going steady. Or as steady as you could go in a virus ravaged landscape where you had to defend yourself from mindless beings that you might once have been friends with. They still managed to have their moments, little kisses shared or cuddled up in the backseat together while Little Rock tried to teach Tallahassee about Hannah Montana and Tallahassee tried to teach Little Rock about John Wayne.

Wichita had soon found out that when compared to the guys she had previously dated; Columbus could only be called a prude. She had raided the sea side store with Little Rock and came out in a bikini. She'd never seen someone's face go so red before as his did, and then when Tallahassee jokingly wolf whistled at her Columbus took off his shirt and asked her to put it on, mumbling something about a rule that said the more layers the harder it was for infected teeth to reach your skin. It would explain his constant use of hoodies and jeans even in the sweltering heat, but Wichita was aiming to have a little fun, not cover up.

When Little Rock came out of the sea side store ten minutes later in a nearly matching bikini, Columbus had nearly lost it, sputtering at the preteen who was more teen then pre. Little Rock had merely smirked at him, fingering at one of the ties holding her top together, knowing it would set him off. And set him off it did, Columbus immediately giving chase after the girl and demanding she don his hoodie, the two disappearing off in the distance as Little Rock cackled and ran.

Neither Wichita or Tallahassee were too worried about the two hitting any trouble, Columbus always had his gun on him and a Ziploc baggie full of bullets to go with it, the ex-college student forever paranoid about the infected even if they had cleaned out a house and barricaded it so well that the Koolaid man himself couldn't have come through the wall. That and the two could run really fast. Columbus' first rule: cardio.

"I really don' get what you see in tha' spitfuck," Tallahassee commented, shaking his head.

"It's nice being with someone who likes me better for my brains then my looks," Wichita shrugged, taking off Columbus' shirt, grabbing one of the water bottles they had and making herself comfortable in the sand.

She was actually surprised that Tallahassee had waited this long before making some comment about Columbus, everyday a 'fuck with the spitfuck' day as far as the Floridian was concerned. Up until now he'd been perfectly behaved towards Columbus, something she was slightly happy and mostly disappointed at because even she could admit it was funny, but it made her wonder how the two had ever managed to stick together as long as they had. Tallahassee was the kind of guy who would have bullied Columbus had they been in high school together, their surprisingly strong friendship a mystery to her and Little Rock.

"Even the zombies would like you better for your looks then your brains, girl."

Wichita rolled her eyes, "Don't be overdramatic."

Tallahassee hunched over slightly, raising his arms and putting a desolate expression on his face. It was nothing like the infected, much closer to the zombies in the movies then what he really meant by the word. He shuffled towards her slowly, letting out a long moan.

"Braiiiins… Braiiins… Braiiiiiiiiins…" Tallahassee kept shuffling forward, looking down at her until he got so close he was practically right on top of her. Wichita watched him warily, Tallahassee sniffing at her a moment before turning around and shuffling off in the opposite direction. "Nooo braiiins…"

Wichita threw her wattle bottle at his head, knocking his cowboy hat off and making him growl at her. She gave him a toothy smile in return, challenging him with her eyes to even think about doing something. Tallahassee looked ready to say something when Little Rock's laughter reached them again, both turning to look as Columbus trudged toward them in a slightly defeated manner, Little Rock wearing his hoodie, leaving him shirtless, but the girl having gotten a piggy back ride out of him.

Wichita smirked, leaning back on her hands and watching her sister direct Columbus to stand in front of her by tugging on his hair, the curls beginning to get a bit wild, but Columbus refused to have her cut them for whatever reason. Little Rock hopped off his back, going and flopping down beside her sister.

"The store had speedos, right? We should totally get Collie in…"

Wichita snorted at the mental image of Columbus in a speedo, half expecting Tallahassee to make some comment about Columbus being so pale that if he wore a speedo they'd all be blinded, but no comment was forthcoming. She looked around for the Floridian, half tuning her sister out even as she nodded at whatever Little Rock was droning on about, spotting Tallahassee coming up behind Columbus. Only he'd adopted the same hunched over and arms raised position, the only difference being the smirk on his face as he came closer to the unsuspecting ex-college student.

"Colum-"

Wichita tried to warn him, eyes widening, but Tallahassee was a lot faster than her. He grabbed Columbus by his shoulders, drawing the boy close to him and biting down on his neck. The resulting shriek, sounding higher pitched then even Little Rock's best go, had Little Rock so shocked she bolted upright quickly, only to start laughing when she saw who it was. Besides the shriek Columbus elbowed his attacker in the face hard, already on the verge of a panic attack because the poor guy thought it was one of the infected, grabbing his gun and whirling around to aim.

"God damn, Spitfuck! I think you broke my nose!"

"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod-" Columbus was shoving a bullet in when the words sunk in, looking up in shock. "Tallahassee?"

Wichita sighed and stood up, trying desperately not to laugh as Tallahassee cursed up a storm, trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose. Little Rock was too busy laughing her ass off, and Columbus looked like he was still trying to process that he wasn't bitten and Tallahassee was just being his normal self.

"And what have we learned today?" She asked, going over and swatting the older man's hands away from his nose to make sure it wasn't actually broken.

"No'ta bi' Spi'fuck…" Tallahassee said begrudgingly, letting her look at it.

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Later on that night the group would raid a small store just a few miles off from the beach for marshmallows so they could have a bonfire, ignoring Columbus' protests against it. Little Rock managed to find a single box of Twinkies, still having time before their expiration date, and gave them to Tallahassee, the Floridian pretending to look near tears.

He didn't need to pretend to look near tears when Columbus shot the box right out of his hand, then making sure to double tap it so if Tallahassee would need to find a straw if he wanted to eat them anymore, taking his odd brand of revenge. Wichita and Little Rock both covered their mouths in shock, watching with wide eyes as Tallahassee and Columbus stared each other down, Columbus' anger fueling him into not shaking like a little bitch. After about a minute Tallahassee snorted, surprising both the girls by being the first to technically back down.

"I realize I crossed a line… So I'll only give you about 60% power for that."

"Deal."

Wichita rolled her eyes, Little Rock laughing at her side as Tallahassee punched Columbus in the chest hard. She realized she'd probably never understand how Tallahassee and Columbus could work together like they did, and decided she never wanted to, either.


	3. Rule Number One: Cardio

**AN: **_Thanks to Seaspy for reviewing! Sorry this isn't getting updated much, I'm more focused on some of my other fics, school, and I have this terrible thing called laziness. I would not be as good as surviving in Z-land as these four. Gonna fish for reviews here, because I'd like to see how many people actually read this, and if any of you have any ideas/requests and I like them I could give them a go. (if you read my Drabbles then it's the same exact set up)_

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_**Rule Number One:  
Cardio**_

They'd split up, which, admittedly, was never the best plan when it came to the post-apocalyptic world with the infected running rampant, but they had. Tallahassee and Wichita had gone to one side of the plaza, Wichita going into a clothing store while Tallahassee went into the alcohol store. Columbus and Little Rock headed to the opposite side of the plaza, Little Rock wanting to explore the Dollar Tree.

Given that they had split up, Tallahassee was ready when he heard gunshots, exiting the store to see Little Rock come running across the parking lot at them, gesturing wildly. The twelve year old knew better than to shout, but she looked dangerously close to doing so. What ended up surprising the Floridian, and Wichita when she came out of the clothing store with an armful of clothes, was that Little Rock was alone, without any zombies insight.

"We got cornered, and I-" Little Rock had to pause to take in large gasps of air, out of breath. "Collie's face-I couldn't-I dropped my gun, and then it got worse, and he ran out of bullets but distracted them!"

Tallahassee shot Wichita a questioning look, but the girl was just as confused by her sister's jumbled response as he was. The twelve year old was desperately trying to regain her breath, shaking ever so slightly and looking ready to cry. Wichita tried to get her to talk, but Little Rock couldn't manage to, dragging them both over to the Dollar Tree that she and Columbus had gone to earlier.

"Little Rock… If Columbus is…" Wichita hesitated, unable to make herself say it, and swallowed hard instead. Whatever happened to staying unattached, to just the two of them? "It's not your fault. He'd not blame you, you know that."

Little Rock, managing to recollect herself somewhat, shook her head. Tallahassee and Wichita followed the preteen into the Dollar Tree, surveying it, but there was no sign of any of the infected, or Columbus. No sign of a struggle at all. Little Rock led them to a ladder and they all went up it, going out on to the roof of the store.

Wichita dumped the clothing, getting out the pistol she had taken to carrying. Tallahassee was already armed and ready, but there was no fight to be had on the roof, either. Instead they watched as Little Rock walked to the edge and just stood there, putting a hand to her mouth. They went closer slowly, even Wichita unsure why her sister was acting this way.

As they got closer they began to hear the sounds of the infected, and the blurred speech of someone talking at a fast rate. Wichita stood on Little Rock's left and Tallahassee took her right. Little Rock's shaking seemed to increase, and belatedly, Tallahassee and Wichita realized it was from _laughter_, and not the worry they had assumed it to be, as both stared down at the scene before them in silence. The only thing that broke it was Little Rock's growing snickers, and the usually quiet Columbus, who they could hear quite clearly as he ran.

Columbus was running from zombiefied _strippers,_ and he looked absolutely horrified. Some of the ladies were entirely naked, while others had on various forms of skimpy outfits and lingerie; some even had tassels on their nipples. One was dressed as a maid, another a cat girl, a clown, and a fourth in a dominatrix outfit. The one in the dominatrix outfit had a leash wrapped around her wrist, stilled leading to the collar, which was somehow still attached to some poor sap's head, long dead by now. All of them, which appeared to be around fifteen, had some amount of blood on them, apparently having feasted on their clients, or on each other. There was a copious amount of body glitter, too.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

It seemed to be the ex-college student's mantra as he ran from the deceased strippers, even more desperate than he would be normally. Little Rock had been the one that noticed that there seemed to be a partially hidden parking lot behind the plaza, and had gone to see what was there, hoping for a relatively safe looking Starbucks and really stale pasties. Instead they'd found a seedy looking stripper joint, the naked lady portrayed on the door having been splattered with blood.

He had thought it couldn't have gotten worse when the first one had appeared, somewhat acceptably covered in a school girl outfit. Then the clown stripper had appeared, which was just so many levels of wrong that he had fired blindly, missing the clown but managing to get a red head right between the eyes. More and more of them had appeared out of seemingly everywhere, one that was under a car and looked like it had been run over managing to grab his ankle and make him fall. Little Rock shot it before it could bite him, but the preteen had been laughing so hard she'd dropped it and had to forfeit picking it up because of the dead Betty Boop that seemed to want to eat her brains. In the end she'd had to run while Columbus played a delicious decoy, the boy running laps around the parking lot until he could get rescued, as he quickly ran out of ammo.

As they watched, Columbus managed to leap over a trash can, the clown stripper not as coordinated and smacking her face off the ground, tripping some of the other infected as they tried to continue chasing him. He took it as an opportunity to run to the side of the seedy looking stripper joint, practically hurling himself at the rain gutter that was coming down, scaling it before it could break under his roof and pulling himself to safety on the roof.

Wichita watched the awkward male she had slowly begun to fall in love with be chased, biting her bottom lip, torn between laughing and crying in relief that he was still okay. Thank God for his first rule. Columbus was one of the skinniest guys she'd ever seen, and it didn't help that he'd skip meals so one of them could have more to eat, but damn could he run. She slowly moved over to the pile of clothes she had dumped in the corner, digging out the lingerie she had picked out.

"Don't think he'll be happy to see me in this anytime soon," Wichita deadpanned, tossing it over the side of the roof.

That was when Tallahassee finally lost it, laughing loudly. It would take the trio awhile before they could finally calm down enough to go and save Columbus. After that, both Little Rock and Wichita got the silent treatment for two days, though Tallahassee got it for nearly two weeks, but that was only because he'd constantly bring it up and tease Columbus about it.


	4. Auntie Anne's

**AN: **I don't even know what this is. _RavenCrow17_, here's your Tallumbus. Or at least the beginnings of it, I guess.

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_If you love someone let them go. If they stay away then they were never yours to begin with, but if they come back then they are yours to keep. _

They'd lost Columbus a week ago. The scrawny spitfuck had pulled some bullshit hero move, because fucking hell, the kid had kept rule seventeen with the scratched out don't exactly the way it was. Tallahassee wasn't even exactly sure how it had happened, or where all the zombies had come from. Maybe it was because there seemed like there had been other survivors in the area recently, a trail they'd been following in hopes of finding more than just the four of them as the last alive in the United States of Zombieland. All the zombies who had followed the living, just like they were, were already there, waiting.

Then again, it had been a fucking _mall._ Whoever they had been following obviously had a death wish and they must have too, since Little Rock and Wichita both wanted to do some clothes shopping. Which was what got them stuck in the little fuck Auntie Anne's kiosk in the first fucking place, reminiscent of the booth he'd locked himself in at Pacific Playland.

And they'd run out of most of their weapons, even Little Rock and Columbus resorting to some of the more disgusting routes of zombie killing, he'd been mumbling something about burning his hoodie, though as if because all the spitfuck did was wear those goddamn _hoodies_, and then more zombies had appeared to add on to the cluster fuck they were already facing. The moment it happened, he'd just been turning towards Columbus to shoot one, the only one of them with any fucking bullets left, and had seen the realization and resignation that they could all very well be zombie chow, and the freedom that came with it.

It had nearly taken his breath away, that freedom that came on Columbus' face. The one that, oddly enough, went along with realizing he could sacrifice himself to save the others possibly, something that should have been a heavier weight instead of a light one, but the spitfuck had always been odd. Tallahassee was used to the Columbus he had first met, that shaking, scrawny ass little ex-college student that had a list of phobias taller than he was and who was trying to hold a gun against him even though he'd never been violent against anything other than the zombies before. A freedom that was confident, brave.

In the instant he saw it, he supposed he had known then what the spitfuck was going to do, a wrench in his gut as sharp as his hunting knife. _Don't get attached. _A lot of good that had fucking done him, and in that moment he'd never felt more helpless in his life, except for maybe when he had learned the damned things had gotten his baby boy, bitten the man who Tallahassee had left in charge of him and who had just ran away instead of saving Buck.

Columbus had caught his look and smiled this little fucking smile, then slipped out the door. Right out the fucking door, shoving his way past grabbing hands and running for it, shouting all the way and hopping around like a demented fucking rabbit, making as much noise as he possibly could. Little Rock screamed for him, but most of the zombies drew off to give chase for the easiest flesh. He had dispatched what few had remained, about ten, with Wichita and Little Rock, but by the time they were done they couldn't hear Columbus or the horde of zombies anymore.

Little Rock cried the entire way back to the house they were staying in, silent tears that just kept streaming and streaming down her face as she looked out the window. Wichita had a hand pressed to her mouth, trying to keep her sobs in and hugging her sister close, mascara running, though why the fuck the girl felt the need to look hot during the apocalypse Tallahassee never could understand. He'd just drove, grip tight on the steering wheel and numb, trying not to notice the spot beside him that was achingly empty.

Depression was the only thing that kept them around the house. Even he couldn't just nut up and fucking shut up, without Columbus there was a huge hole in their little group. It wasn't until he was gone that Tallahassee realized how much Columbus had done, keeping track of all their food and bullets, even noting the girls' menstrual cycles so he could try and warn them ahead of time to get some Midol and tampons. He cooked, knowing just enough because he'd grown tired of the TV dinners, but never pizza, the one food he said was his Twinkie.

On the third night of their moping, Little Rock had dug in Columbus' suitcase, the same one he'd had when Tallahassee had first met him, and found the little notebook he'd taken to keeping, reading it aloud. It was divided into sections, his neat scrawl and need to organize either showcasing that he was a college student or that he had OCD. There were lists of nearly everything: what they all liked to eat, what the girls preferred when each had their menstrual cycle, guesses at clothing size just in case and what they might want if it was needed, a list of Little Rock's favorite candy and sugar free gums, expected expiration dates for any and all Twinkies, what weapons they had, what ammunition they might need, what weapons Tallahassee'd get a kick out of using, what music each of them liked. He had random tidbits of information on them, like his story of having a Buddy once, and then accidentally offing him with some nuts in a chocolate bar. At the very back was his list of rules, the newest one tacked on being never let Little Rock drink ever again, right after enjoy the little things, something he'd said himself.

To get as close to a funeral as they could, they burned Columbus' notebook and all but one of his hoodies. Tallahassee kept the map, and only bothered looking at it on the sixth night, deciding enough was enough. They needed to get a move on, staying in this place wouldn't do them any good. But opening the map had revealed more of Columbus' little notes, the worst places due to population, or places that some of them might like to visit. He'd nearly cried when he'd seen a big circle and read the scrawl that was beside it, the location of a Twinkie factory.

Seeing that, he just couldn't handle it anymore, and that morning, the seventh day since Columbus saved them, he left the girls and made an alcohol run, returning to a worried Little Rock and a pissed off Wichita. He let the girl yell at him for being stupid and not saying where he was going, unusually nice because of the tears in her eyes and the fact that it had been stupid of him to not say anything. Columbus had always asked him before, but no one had asked this time, so he had just _left_, and fuck if that hadn't made him an ass to the last two important people in his life who were actually alive.

Little Rock forgave him first, demanding a hug goodnight and he even tucked her in bed. _**Don't get attached.**_ Fuck that little rule; these girls were all he had now. Hell, even he realized how close of a father figure he was becoming to Little Rock, the girl stuck between the age of not wanting one but desperately needing something more than her sister in a world where she could die each day. Wichita didn't forgive him until he patted her head, just as surprised as she was by the gesture. So he grunted a little, and gruffly told her to get her ass in bed because if she lost any more beauty sleep he'd shoot her because he thought she was a zombie. That had gotten him a little smile, the first he'd seen in nearly a week, and damn if he hadn't felt proud because of it.

With the girls in bed, or at least away from him, Tallahassee took to the bottle and keeping watch in case anything tried to break in. With the storm raging outside that was unlikely, flashes of lightning illuminating the whole room even with the windows boarded up, and booms of thunder that shook the house. The noise would leave most of the zombies too confused on which way to go even if they did catch the scent of flesh, which he was pretty certain was impossible with the way the rain was coming down. Either way, he kept a baseball bat, his pistol, and some ammo close by. He also had the only hoodie they had kept, still smelling of Columbus and the perfume bottle that Little Rock had dumped on him as a prank, which, coincidentally enough, ended up letting a zombie with no eyes walk right past him as he stood stock still.

He'd finished a whole bottle of whiskey, the burn almost soothing. In the back of his mind he could picture Columbus there, telling him that alcohol was a depressant and would only further to depress him, like every other time he tried to drink around the spitfuck. Tallahassee snorted, using the hoodie as a pillow on the coffee table, too drunk to care if the girls walk in and saw him doing so, because damned if he wouldn't hold on to what little of Columbus they hadn't given away to the raging flames.

_Bang._ It took him a second to realize what the noise was, brain muddled from the alcohol, though he was quick to snap to an adrenaline fueled alert when the doorknob rattled, and more harsh knocks followed it. He made to grab his gun, planning to shoot the fucker through the door if possible, but decided against it when he remembered the girls were sleeping, instead grabbing the bat. The little Columbus voice in his head switched from droning on about alcohol to the fact that it might not just be one zombie and he might be going into something he couldn't handle, but he really didn't fucking care. He unlocked the door and swung it open, bat already primed to swing at the undead motherfucker-

It was _Columbus._

For a horrified second, one of the few times he'd ever felt truly scared and disgusted in a world full of zombies, Tallahassee had thought that the ex-college student was a zombie, and that he'd have to kill him. But then Columbus gave this strangled kind of sound, hand dropping a pipe that had been used as a weapon, and he realized that the kid just looked like fucking death, wasn't actually a part of it. _Thank God._

How was the spitfuck that lucky? How did he manage to outrun all of those zombies? His first rule, about cardio, or the one about limbering up? There was this awkward moment as he tried to figure out what the fuck he should do, torn between hugging his spitfuck close and never letting him go, or killing him for making them all go through hell. He was the one who was a one man army against zombies, Wichita and Little Rock did the girly emotions. Columbus did the girly emotions. He did the yelling and the killing, the occasional kind pat and show of emotion.

Columbus came in slowly, shutting the door softly and locking it behind him because he just fucking _knew_ what Tallahassee was thinking, struggling with, the fear that maybe he was bit and he just didn't see it yet, or that it was some crazy alcohol induced dream, and fuck, the spitfuck was always the one who was thinking, never seemed to stop, always worrying and planning ahead. Always thinking about how to survive, how to make all of them survive. But he'd be damned, if he could just get past the thought that Columbus was standing there, nearly dead on his feet, but _alive_, bags under his eyes showcasing that he probably hadn't slept a wink, but alive despite even that, returning like a little scrawny fucking puppy, he might be able to actually do something besides just stand there with his fucking mouth open gawking.

"How the fu-"

He never got to finish his sentence, Columbus finishing surveying the house and deciding he was safe, though of course he fucking was, and then the spitfuck just pushed him, Tallahassee just going with it because what the hell, hitting the wall and sliding to the floor, getting a lap full of shaking ex-college student.

That was possibly even scarier than thinking he might be a zombie, or before when Tallahassee had refused and just made himself think that they'd 'lost' him, like Buck, because this was fucking Columbus, antisocial twitchy little spitfuck who somehow became the center of their little group, who didn't break down outside of _ohgodohgodwe'regonnadie_, and he was sitting in his lap and shaking, head buried in his chest. Tallahassee wasn't even sure if Columbus was shaking because of emotion or because he was fucking soaked, he could already feel it spreading from the damp curls which were too long to be right but looked surprisingly good on the spitfuck, and he grabbed the hoodie from the coffee table, placing it on his shoulders in case he really was cold.

"How the hell are you alive?"

"I-I did take care of myself before you found me."

Tallahassee knew that was true, but sometimes it was hard to imagine it. Little Columbus, with all his rules that really didn't matter in the end, but somehow still kept him alive. He'd heard the story of 406, the spitfuck's first infected encounter, before the news about the virus had even spread, and how he'd taken her out with a double tap by a toilet bowl lid. Then he'd just kept on surviving until he'd found them, when he could actually start living again. When they became a dysfunctional family.

So what if Columbus' voice shook a little? Tallahassee's was almost the same, and he'd give the spitfuck a break this time around for being a pussy. It wasn't manly at all, but the end of the world had already come and gone and he was still scraping by, so fuck his manliness and machoism. None of it mattered when it came down to the four of them, surviving together day by day and loving one another in their own way, relying and trusting each other, living in a world ruled by the dead. It's not like Columbus would tell the girls that he pulled him closer, held him there, hand on a head full of curls and the other on his back, mumbling something about keeping him warm as an excuse.

For the longest time they just sat there, Tallahassee not knowing what to say and not caring, and Columbus apparently not up for talking. It took him about an hour to realize Columbus had fallen asleep, and for the briefest of moments he thought about shoving the ex-student off, before deciding against it. He didn't know how Columbus had managed to survive, what kind of horrors he had faced, and if he was what made his spitfuck feel safe again, then he'd damn well sit there and let the kid sleep for a few hours.

* * *

Tallahassee woke to a shriek, whole body jolting as he went from dreaming of Buck to awake in less than five seconds, looking at Little Rock and Wichita just standing there with matching looks of disbelief on their faces.

Columbus stirred, mumbled something, and then he actually had the gall to bury his head further into the crook of his neck, apparently planning on continuing his little nap. Tallahassee growled a little, wondering what was the best way to wake him up with as little pain as possible for the both of them, though mainly he was concerned about himself. He'd had the honor of waking the spitfuck up before and had nearly gotten a broken nose because of it, the light pat somehow being mistaken for a zombie bite. Not that he wasn't the same, sometimes, it was just no one was stupid enough to shake him awake or be close by when they woke him.

Then he remembered the girls, looking back at them to find Wichita with her arms crossed against her chest and foot tapping, and Little Rock grinning like a loon. Both girls could be scarier than any zombie, and he knew they were smart, so he couldn't decide which look he hated more. He shoved Columbus off of him, the spitfuck waking with a small yelp and looking around in panic before he realized where he was.

"Surprise?" Columbus offered, voice raspy and rough, Wichita's daze darkening.

Tallahassee decided he really needed some Advil if he was going to be in the vicinity of Wichita's bitch fit.


	5. AU: Hostess is out of business

**AN:** I just read on FB that _Hostess_ is going out of business! The first thing I think? Poor Tallahassee! So it made me want to do this AU. Basically the zombie apocalypse never happens, though Columbus dreams about it, and he and Tallahassee, with Buck, meet in Wal-Mart, where Tallahassee finds out that his beloved Twinkies will stop being made. I kind of got carried away and did a few things with Columbus and Buck, too. If I do any more to this AU it will definitely be Col/Tal. (And the names are kept the same)  
**Reviews:** Thanks to my two reviewers! _(RavenCrow17,_ here's some more pre-Tallumbus kinda, haha)_  
_

* * *

Columbus chewed on the end of his hoodie string, halfheartedly going through some of the TV dinner selections that were available at his local Wal-Mart. He already had two packs of Code Red Mountain Dew in his cart along with some cheese, twizzlers, and tomato soup, and he was tired of pizza, pizza, and more pizza, but his heart wasn't really in it.

He had decided to take a nap seeing as it was Friday and he could wait a bit to do any homework, but sure enough he'd had a nightmare during it. Something about zombies over taking the world and somehow he managed to survive by having a list of rules, though he really doubted that would _ever_ happen. If anything he'd probably just let the zombie bite him, if it asked nicely enough. But in his dream he'd met up with three others, some of the only survivors, and he almost wished he could have remembered more about them. Maybe it was his mind's way of telling him to go out and get some friends, even if he was loyal to those on his XBOX friends list.

For some reason the dream had stuck with him, the ending so horrible that his mind had already blocked it out. Even though he couldn't remember the end, though it was fairly easy to guess given that it had been a zombie dream, it stayed with him, leaving an unsettling feeling in his stomach. With a sigh he decided that he didn't want a TV dinner after all, and made his way out of the aisle, deciding that he would just get some bread and have a nice grilled cheese sandwich, and maybe some tomato soup to go with it. Something warm to get rid of the chill he was feeling.

"_**WHAT?**_"

The yell made Columbus jump, hoodie string popping out of his mouth. He nearly gave up shopping altogether when he realized the scream had come from the next aisle he was just about to enter, but he couldn't get his feet to stop in time to backtrack, entering the aisle and spotting the disturbance.

A Wal-Mart sales attendant was trying to calm down an irate costumer, and Columbus stared for a long moment without even noticing, absentmindedly placing the hoodie string back in his mouth to chew on it again. He was almost positive that he'd seen the guy before, but Columbus was also positive that he didn't make a habit to spend time around men who wore snake leather jackets, boots, cowboy hats, and looked ready to skin some poor Wal-Mart sales associate alive.

"You mean to tell me that there will be no more Twinkies?" Cowboy hat hissed, and even from the opposite end of the aisle Columbus could have sworn he saw fire in the man's eyes. "_Ever?_"

"I-I…" The sales associate stuttered for a moment, "Well, I'm sure that we have some more right now, sir, but the Hostess Company is going out of business, you see, and so yes, we will eventually be out of Twinkies, but I can check in the back if you want…"

"_THEN GO CHECK!_ _I WANT MY FUCKING TWINKIES!_"

The sales associate scampered off immediately, nearly running, as Cowboy hat tried to calm himself down, growling and muttering under his breath. Columbus decided he'd been watching long enough, finally turning to decide what type of bread he wanted, and nearly getting the crap scared out of him by the little blonde boy who was standing right there, as if he'd been waiting for Columbus to look at him the whole time.

Now, Columbus had never really been around kids, but looking at the little blonde boy who stared up at him with wide, tear filled blue eyes, he decided that maybe his mother had been wrong when she said that they were only little heathens who couldn't even cleanup for themselves. He didn't know how to talk to a little kid, but he thought he remembered reading somewhere that getting down to their level was good. Or maybe that had been in the dog book he'd been reading. They were basically the same, weren't they?

Columbus bent down a little, "What's wrong?"

"I-I can't reach!" The blonde boy whimpered and pointed near the top shelf.

Columbus looked, and behind a few loaves of bread was a box of Twinkies. He frowned, moving and grabbing the box for the little kid. Some people could be really inconsiderate with not putting things back where they belonged, or hiding stuff if it was the last item and just leaving it there. It was one of his pet peeves about shopping, one of many. He turned around and offered it to the little blonde boy.

"DADDY!" The blonde boy called loudly, "He's got the last box of Twinkies!"

With growing horror, Columbus realized that he did in fact hold the last box of Twinkies, and that Twinkies was exactly what Cowboy hat had been looking for. He whirled around, watching as Cowboy hat immediately started stalking towards him, and Columbus half thought about running. One of his dream rules had been know your exits, and he thought he could apply that right now, but when he looked back the little blonde boy was still there and some lady with a cart was entering right beside him. Columbus didn't have the heart to run a little kid over, and the lady was blocking the rest of the way.

When Columbus turned back, Cowboy hat was almost right in his face.

"Are you buying those?" Cowboy hat growled.

"N-no!" Columbus hated the way he squeaked, but Jesus the older man was terrifying. "Your little boy found them and couldn't reach them, so I got them, and here, you can have them."

"Great, hand them over." Cowboy hat held out his hand in the universal gimme gesture.

At that moment two things happened. The sales associate that Cowboy hat had scared came back, standing at the end of the aisle and saying they were out of Twinkies. The next, and the most important thing, was the lady who had just come in the aisle moved to get a loaf of bread, accidentally bumping into Columbus just as the college student went to hand over the box of Twinkies. He accidentally lost his grip on the box, the Twinkies falling to the floor, and stumbled forward, Cowboy hat automatically adjusting to catch him as he fell into his chest.

A loud _crunch_ and Columbus realized that today would be the day that he would most likely meet his untimely demise. His last step forward had landed on the box of Twinkies, and Cowboy hat looked down at his feet, the hands on Columbus' arms that had been used to steady him tightening. Columbus didn't dare look down, couldn't bear too really, and just lifted his foot.

"Oopsies!" The little blonde boy giggled from behind him, and Columbus decided that maybe he didn't like children that much after all.

"You have no idea how incredibly sorry I am," Columbus was slightly proud of himself for not whimpering as he bent to retrieve the now squashed box of Twinkies. He offered it to Cowboy hat just as the little blonde boy came up and attached himself to his leg, giggling more.

"Daddy, this is funny!"

"Yeah, Bucky…" Cowboy hat took the smashed box of Twinkies, voice light when talking to his son, but the look he was giving Columbus was anything but amused. "Reaaal funny."

Columbus had no idea what possessed him to speak, but before he could stop himself he blurted out: "I think I have a box of Twinkies back at my dorm. Either Twinkies or Sno Balls, I'm not sure which…"

* * *

As soon as he unlocked the door to his dorm, Columbus practically ran inside, leaving it open behind him so Cowboy hat and Buck could follow behind him. There was a rule against outsiders coming inside, but when they had walked in not even the security guard had given them a second look.

"I'll just go and find the box, yeah?" Columbus mumbled around the hoodie string he had taken to chewing on again, "Make yourself comfortable."

He didn't stay to see how Cowboy hat and Buck made themselves comfortable, heading for the pantry in his kitchen immediately. Columbus had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Inviting a strange older man to his house who seemed to have a serious Twinkie addiction and looked like he could just flick him and he'd snap in half? Sure, the guy had a son, but that didn't mean anything.

Columbus groaned to himself quietly, starting the search for the Twinkie box. Maybe it was because Cowboy hat, and he really had to remember to catch the guy's name, looked like one of the people from his dream earlier this afternoon. But this was still very out of character for him, and if he told his parents about it in his Sunday call then he'd definitely get reprimanded for it. It didn't even matter that his parents were all the way in Columbus, Ohio, while he was here in Texas. They'd still ground him, and he'd still listen.

Ten minutes later, most of the time spent berating himself internally over bringing Cowboy hat home, Columbus finally found the box of Twinkies, and nearly cried in relief. It was his fourth go over of the pantry; he nearly thought it was just Sno Balls in there regarding Hostess products. He stood from his bent position triumphantly, leaving the kitchen only to stop dead in his tracks.

Cowboy hat was asleep on the couch, spread out on it. Columbus had no idea how he didn't hear the snoring in the kitchen because the older man snored incredibly loudly, cowboy hat half way down on his face to block the light from the ceiling, and too big to actually fit on the couch so the bottom of his legs were hanging off the edge. Buck sat on the floor against the couch, playing with what Columbus assumed was Cowboy hat's phone. The little boy looked up with his big blue eyes as soon as Columbus moved closer.

Buck somehow just knew that Columbus wanted to wake his father up and send them both packing, Columbus knew it. There was no other reason for those eyes to become tear filled again, and for a bottom lip to stick out.

"Daddy's tired cuz he's been wowkin' all day at this const-ac-tion company." Buck whimpered, but Columus was determined, and- "I don't got no mommy so he's doin' it all by himself and is weally tired."

_Fudge,_ Columbus mentally cussed. Buck was smart, too smart. How could he say no to a story like that, especially when the kid looked ready to cry? Columbus might have been anti-social but he wasn't a monster. He straightened up, putting the box of Twinkies on the coffee table with a small sigh.

"Guess it won't hurt to let him sleep, some…" Columbus said, and Buck _beamed_ at him.

Columbus knew right then and there that he'd have to get these two out quick, because there was no way he could deny the little boy anything. And he got the feeling that he wouldn't be able to deny Cowboy hat anything, either, but for an entirely different reason.

"Want some grilled cheese and tomato soup?"

* * *

After their dinner, Columbus and Buck wandered back out to the living room area of the teen's dorm. Cowboy hat or Tallahassee as Buck had told him, and thank God he wasn't the only one with a city name as a name, was still sleeping like the dead, and snoring even louder. Tallahassee definitely wasn't showing any signs of waking up anytime soon, and Columbus just knew there was no way Buck would let him wake the older man up. It was a somewhat unanimous decision to make Tallahassee more comfortable, since Columbus wanted to be a good host, after all, and Buck had the puppy eyes down to an art.

Dimming the lights and putting a blanket on the older man was all Columbus could think to do, until Buck pointed to the cowboy boots. Columbus tried to slip one boot off gently, but that wasn't enough. He pulled a bit harder and a bit harder until he was finally tugging, bracing himself against the couch as he pulled.

"Pull, pull!" Buck encouraged, giggling and clapping his hands.

"How in the world does he get these things on?" Columbus muttered, pulling hard enough that the boot finally slipped off and he fell back with it.

Between him, Buck, and the way the boot just didn't want to come off, he was amazed that Tallahassee was still asleep. He examined the boot a bit closer and realized the stupid thing had a zipper, and he was barely able to stifle a groan. No wonder the thing wouldn't come off, and when he went for the second one, this time doing the zipper, it was a lot easier. He sighed in relief, up until he looked over at Buck and the little boy looked back with those big baby blues.

"I'm bored," Buck pouted.

Columbus was doomed.

* * *

"I want this one and _that_ one!"

"I don't think Optimus Prime would like you pairing him with Megatron."

"But they both have to protect the city from Batman and Ironman!"

"They-" Columbus decided to just hand over Megatron instead of explaining that Batman and Ironman would never destroy a city, Optimus Prime and Megatron would never be rescuing a city together, and that those four would never, hopefully, cross comics. Buck grinned happily and went Godzilla style with all four of the action figures on the poor Lego city, even though Optimus Prime and Megatron were supposed to be protecting it, not destroying it.

* * *

"Again!" Buck demanded, turning in Columbus' lap to pout at him.

Columbus frowned, "We've watched this Barney clip ten times already, can't we move on to that nice looking Sesame Street clip?"

"No!"

It had obviously been a mistake to let Buck have that half a cup of Code Red Mountain Dew, but hindsight was 20/20, after all. And it probably didn't hope that Columbus was letting the little kid munch on twizzlers, slowly sucking the flavor out of one himself. He was hoping that the kid would come off his sugar high and just crash, but it didn't look like that would happen for at least another hour.

"Ohhh, ohhh!" Buck had turned back towards the screen, spotting another video he liked better. "Blues Clues, Blues Clues!"

Well, at least it wasn't Barney again.

* * *

Tallahassee sat up with a groan, twisting until his back gave a loud pop. He had no idea what time it was, but by the looks of the sun coming up from the lone window in the room it was probably morning. Which meant he'd fallen asleep at some skinny fuck's dorm room and left Buck on the kid's hands. Great, what kind of father was he?

He'd been in a bad mood last night, seeing as his construction job had just laid him off as they were shutting down, but offered to recommend him to another site, the assholes. Then he'd gotten to Buck's baby sitter late and she had chewed him out and made him pay extra. By the time he'd gotten to Wal-Mart with Buck in tow he'd been doing his best not to get annoyed at his little boy for babbling on a mile a minute about whatever he'd done that day. And then he'd found out that Hostess, the company that made his wonderful, beloved, Twinkies, was going out of business and that Wal-Mart didn't have anymore. Un-fucking-believable.

His night had taken an upturn when Buck had apparently spotted a hidden box, having some little scrawny ass kid get it for him before calling Tallahassee over, but then some bitch had run into the kid and not only had he dropped the box, but he stepped on it too. When the kid said something about having a box back at his place Tallahassee had almost said no, but Buck loved Twinkies just as much as he did, and there was no way he could say no to his son.

So he'd followed the little scrawny shit to his dorm and made himself comfortable when the tiny teen disappeared and… fell asleep. He groaned again, standing up and noticing a lone box of Twinkies on the coffee table. He had to grin at that, and then he was off to find his son. Well, it was barely find, considering all he had to do was walk around the couch to see where his son was.

There was Buck; fast asleep and drooling, face pressed against the chest of the scrawny fuck who'd brought them there. The college student had taken off the hoodie he'd been wearing at some point and it was wrapped around Buck, and the kid was asleep himself, head canted to the side in an awkward position and a twizzler hanging out of his mouth. They were sitting in a computer chair, in front of the student's computer, where Youtube was open and a Blues Clues video was on the screen.

Tallahassee grinned at the cute sight, deciding to go raid the scrawny fuck's kitchen to see if he could make them some breakfast. It was the least he could do, considering he'd just fell asleep and not only left Buck to the kid, but a Buck who needed dinner and then playtime to the kid. He grabbed a Twinkie on his way, though. The spongy deliciousness could be a pre-breakfast snack.


End file.
